Wormtail's Adventures
by The Flying Author
Summary: Voldemort sends Wormtail on a seemingly easy missonget a Harry Potter action figure. Only, as always, nothing goes as planned, and of course, someone gets hurt.


_Wormtails Adventures Doing the Dark Lords Bidding:_

_Part One: The Escapade at Target to Get the Voodoo Dolls_

Authoress Note: I was Target when I saw the funniest thing. Harry Potter Action Figures that were roughly the same size as Barbie's. I thought it was the funniest thing, and erupted into laughter, much to my mum's displeasure, seeing as everyone goes to Target. I had some pretty odd ideas, but this was the only one I was willing to work on. It's helping me work out my writers block for TDOLAP, and it's also something really stupid to write. Hope you enjoy.

ALSO: The spacing is way off, because this thing hates me.

Disclaimer: I OWN NONE OF THIS!!!!!

Dedication: To the founders of Target, and my LAUNCHcast Radio Player. I love you, except when I use up all my skips. It's called 'Conditional Love.'

* * *

Voldemort was desperate. He had been working for weeks on a new plot to get to Harry Potter, and nothing was working. _Nothing_. And he was desperate. Suddenly, the most evil plot he had _ever_ had came to him. So he did the most logical thing possible. He sent Wormtail to Target.

It was a simple request, and Wormtail knew it. But the mere fact that he had to go to a store that closed at nine...and he shuddered. The last time he went to a store that closed at nine, he had gotten locked in...and he didn't want to repeat that again.

He sighed, and entered the store, his black cloak billowing behind him in the slight breeze that the automatic doors created. Wormtail looked at the list, written in his master's evil-looking handwriting.

"One Harry Potter in Hogsmead doll" It read. Wormtail set off to the toy section, muttering about his masters disgusting fantasies. He reached the section with no problem, and began scanning the shelves for his masters wanted object. Suddenly, he saw it.

"YOU!" Wormtail screamed, pointing his finger at a Sirius Black action figure, complete with a black dog and Harry figurine. "You're supposed to be dead!" He screamed again, backing against the other wall, knocking down The Simpson's version of Clue. "Why must you haunt me so?" He cried to the fake Sirius. "Get away from me! Avada K—"

"Sir?" A voice on his left side inquired, "Are you alright, you're yelling at the Harry Potter figurines." He looked over to his left, and saw a dark-haired employee with six earrings in each ear, three nose rings, and two lip rings, and a partridge in a pear—oh sorry, back to the story— looking at him with a curious look on her face.

"I'm fine—oh heck, that's Sirius Black!" He said, eyes wide, and finger pointing to the figurine.

"Yes," she said, "It's a figurine of Sirius Black."

"But...but...he's dead!" Wormtail exclaimed, fear in his eyes.

"Shh!" She hushed, as she put her hand over his mouth, "The children aren't supposed to know!" She said, as she pointed to a three year old who was picking out a baby doll.

"Oh, like they are going to care." He said, pulling her hand away, as the child began to cry, "But really, Sirius Black has come back from the dead to haunt me!"

"Sir," she said sternly, "I'm going to go get someone to help you."

"NO!" Wormtail said, picking up the first figurine he saw, "This is all I need." He said. "I'll just go check out." And he walked away, pledging to never go back to Target again, no matter what mater says.

Only, Wormtail had a problem. See, he had put breadcrumbs down to help him find his way out, but it seemed that the staff had swept up all his breadcrumbs.

"Oh no," He whispered to himself, shaking his head, and wringing his hands, "Now I'll never get out of here." He turned around to go retrace his steps, only to find that he was standing in the middle of the—linins section. Wormtail walked into another isle, and was attacked by a soccer mom trying to find the right size soccer ball for her six-year-old child, who was eyeing the skateboards like they were the best things in the world. "Which size?" She screamed, "One, two, or...for All Saints Day, they have a size THREE?" And then Wormtail got an idea.

He took the nearest skateboard—which happened to be a Barbie one, and it looked particularly evil—and tore it out of its packaging. Then, he set it on the ground, and started to ride away into the cookware isle on his Barbie skateboard. He rode through all the pots and pans, until he hit an old lady who was deciding which pan to get, the non-Teflon coated steal pan, or the Teflon coated iron pan. Based on the bruising on Wormtail's forehead, she chose the iron pan, and went to the check out lanes, fully intended on beating up anyone who tried to steal her purse with that pan.

"I wonder if it will fit in my purse," She asked herself, as she compared her purse size to the pan.

Wormtail was seeing sixteen of everything. And that was not good. Because this meant that he was buying fifteen more dolls than was needed. And we all know that part of the Dark Lords evil plot is to save money. So he turned around, and walked back to the toys to return the extra fifteen..._Hermione dolls_?

"Oh no..." He said, as he stared at the box that was in his grasp. "I didn't...no!"

"Sir?" It was the employee whose decorative piercings could be compared to a popular Christmas song. "We have a policy here. 'You take something out of the packaging, you pay for it.' Do you understand?"

"So...I have to pay for the skateboard that got me hit by an old lady with a frying pan?"

"Yes, sir, yes, you do."

"No!"

"Yes, I'm afraid you do."

"But..."

"'But...' what sir?"

"The Dark Lord, he will be so mad that I wasn't able to save money! Everyone knows that his evil plot for shopping is to save money!"

"Then I suggest you go to Walmart."

"But...that's so far to fly..."

"Sir, it's right across the street."

"Oh."

"But you have to pay for this stuff first."

"Right, of course."

"So, come right this way Sir." Wormtail followed her, stopping briefly to get Queen's Greatest Hits, because The Dark Lord had wanted that for the holiday, "Happy Friday," and today was Friday. He went all right through the checkout, until it got to the point to paying with a credit card.

"Sir," the man asked, "All you have to do is put it in that slot right there." He said, pointing to the credit card shaped hole in the box.

"That's all I have to do." Wormtail said, staring at it in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"No!"

"Yeah, Sir, that's all you have to do."

"So, I put it in there."

"Yes."

"And it...eats it?"

"Sir?"

"So, I never see this again?" He asked, holding his Visa that had "I Love The Dark Lord" all over it. (He got to pick his own background.)

"No."

"You give it back to me after that...box...has shredded it to pieces?"

"No, we don't sir."

"So, I never get it back?"

"No, you get it back."

"After it's been shredded."

"No."

"So I don't get it back."

"No, you get it back whole."

"So, you like, give me a new one?"

"No, you keep the card you have."

"But...the box shreds it!"

"No, it doesn't."

"It...doesn't?"

"No, it doesn't."

"That's amazing.

"Isn't it—I mean, sir, please put the card in." So Wormtail put the card in, but before he had fully put his card in, the box took it from him.

"Holy Dark Lord curds!" He exclaimed, "It ate it!"

"No, sir, it didn't."

"Yes, it did! You promised me! Now I am going to have to kill you!" And Wormtail extracted a wand from his purse, and held it at the helpless employees throat.

"Sir! No!" It was the lady from before. "Don't hurt him!" Suddenly, the old lady with the frying pans came bounding up.

"Hey, you, Sonny!" She yelled in her creaky old voice. "Don't play with sticks inside! Put those outside!" And she hit him over the head with her new frying pan.

Hours later, Wormtail finally made it back to Voldemort's lair, just in time to watch the Dark Lord try to make macaroni and cheese. Having no idea how to use a gas stove, he put the knob on high, and suddenly a huge burst of flame erupted, and Voldemort jumped back in surprise. "CHRIST!" He yelled, and batted at the flame with a kitchen towel, only, the towel caught on fire.

"NO! STUPID OLD FARTS!" Voldemort yelled as he dropped the towel on the ground, and began to stop on it, while it burned a hole in the floor. He did that for about ten minutes, while Wormtail watched, fascinated. Eventually, the flames were extinguished, and Voldemort began to cook. Or...try too. Two minutes after putting the water on, it began to over flow. Water spilled out of the pot, and all over the burner. Wormtail screamed, and turned the heat off, and threw the hot pot of water onto the floor.

"You idiot! That was dinner!" Voldemort screamed, his face turning red, as well as all his bald spots. (He was using Rogaine for Men, and was currently sporting a patchy Mohawk.)

"Order out! Besides, I have the doll!" Wormtail said enthusiastically, and produced a Target bag. Voldemort grabbed the bag, and tore the doll out of it.

"Oh goodie! A Hermione in Hog—wait, you were supposed to get a Potter Doll you brainless twit!"

End Thoughts: PLEASE REVIEW! And, do you want me to do on? Because if I do...I have something planned...if not, oh well. It stays incomplete. So, let me know. Because I don't know myself if I should continue.


End file.
